


Have you ever heard of stranger danger?

by closetpsycho



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: I Don't Even Know, wrong number!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-07 11:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1897401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closetpsycho/pseuds/closetpsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The text message simply read ’very clever’...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a friend prompted me and this is what came out on the other end
> 
> unbeta-ed!

The text message simply read ’very clever’.

Gold frowned at the strange message. He sighed and tapped the text box, needing to reply to this stranger that they’d gotten the wrong number. How that even happened on these fancy phones, Gold didn’t know, but as he slowly typed, another message buzzed in.

‘btw, the pen wasn’t worth stealing anyway :)’

Gold raised his eyebrow but continued to type.

‘Wrong number.’

That must be enough. It was short and got the point through, hopefully. He pocketed the modern technology once more and returned to his spinning wheel. His headache had calmed down by now, the dim lights and automatic motion of his hands helping tremendously. The painkillers he usually took for his leg didn’t help his head strangely enough. His pocket vibrated again and he sighed. But he knew that if he didn’t check the damn message then it would buzz again in a few minutes.

‘Ah, sorry. A friend of mine changed the names of my contacts :b’

‘You are not listed as one of my contacts.’ Gold typed and kept the phone in his hands as he was sure he would get a reply soon.

‘Oh. My name is Belle French. Do I sound familiar?’

Gold subconsciously shook his head negative, ‘No, you do not.’

‘May I have your name then?’

‘You may not.’

‘But there must be a reason you’re a contact on my phone :)’

‘That may be, but I am not interested.’

‘Grumpy pants’

Gold huffed at the insult, ‘You don’t even know me.’

‘Well, that’s not exactly my fault, now is it? :)’

Gold decided to ignore this Belle French from then on and since he wasn't actively texting anyone else, this became relatively easy. He made it a full day without any new messages, but then just before 4 o’clock, a message from the unknown number arrived in his phone. A message from Belle French.

‘What are you doooooing?’

‘Please stop texting me.’ He was trying to be polite, but it was clear this woman wasn’t going away anytime soon. That didn’t mean he had to be civil, but he had always prided himself on being reasonable in the face of rudeness.

‘Please? I’m watching Phineas and Ferb, I think my life has hit a new lowpoint’

‘Texting with a stranger to relieve your boredom isn’t your lowpoint?’

‘Not when the stranger is replying, that means it’s working ;)’

Gold pointedly ignored her for the next hour, choosing to make himself a cup of tea and rearrange his bookshelf. Truth be told, it was indeed a pretty boring afternoon and he returned to his phone where a new message had arrived.

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘Does it matter to you whether I’m mad at you or not?’

‘I don’t like upsetting people :(’

‘I’m not upset.’

‘Good :) mind telling me your name today?’

‘Actually I do mind.’

‘Please? On my phone you’re called “Stranger who apparently doesn’t know me” :)’

‘A very fitting name. I don’t know you.’

‘Please? Just something identifying about you? Like, where are you from?’

Gold paused, ‘Scotland.’

‘Please tell me I’m not texting somebody in Scotland. I don’t think my credit card will like it :/’

‘I live in the States, you’re not texting to Scotland.’ He assured her. It seemed like the decent thing to do.

‘You have officially been re-named “Scotty” on my phone :)’

‘Oh joy.’

‘Hahahaha :D deal with it, Scotty!’ 

‘Don’t tell me what to do.’

‘Until I have a proper name, you will deal :)’

‘Fine, my name is Ryan.’

‘Ryan what? I gave you my full name :)’

‘Too bad for you. You gave it to me, it wasn’t a trade.’ he reminded her.

‘I guess you’re right :) But I will re-name you “Ryan Scotty” in my contacts :)’

‘Thank you.’ As soon as he’d pressed send, he wanted to take it back. Why was he thanking her for changing his name in her phone? Why should he care? No more texts came that day and she drifted from his thoughts.

-x-x-x-

‘Thank you.’

She looked at the message with a smile on her face. A gentleman apparently, this Ryan guy. And eloquent. And disliked the use of smileys apparently. He was probably older than her, ending each text with a dot or an exclamation mark. Proper messages with start and finish. Plus he took ages writing the simplest text. Of course he could simply be unused to typing.

Perhaps she should call the next time.

Belle shrugged to herself and picked up her remote for the stereo. It was a cheap one, used and with many scratches and duct tape patches, but it worked. She turned the volume down frantically as the opening number of Jesus Christ Superstar blasted through her apartment and she prayed that the elderly couple downstairs were out. After ten seconds of tense silence, she turned the volume up to a reasonable level and went for her bookshelf. Her eyes glanced at the spines of the books, dissatisfied with the selection. She’d read them all, three times. But the shopkeeper she usually went to was on holiday. Perhaps she should go see a play, or a musical.

She returned to her phone and closed the message program, her smile returning to her face as Ryan’s thanks closed down. He seemed nice enough. Perhaps she should invite him. A night out with a stranger. She decided against it. He was a stranger after all. Could be some crazy psychopath. Odds were against it, but with Belle’s luck, anything was possible.


	2. Blue or Green?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the saga continues

‘Blue or green?’

Gold looked at the message with a frown, until he saw the sender was Miss Belle French. The most persistent stranger he’d ever met. ‘Excuse me?’ he typed and put the phone besides the dinner plate and waited for her explanation.

‘A dress. I’m going to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Blue or green?’

‘Depends entirely on the dress, but I’d go for blue.’

‘I could send you pictures? The dresses would be on their hangers of course ;)’

He indulged her, ‘Sure.’

A few minutes went by, but eventually two pictures of each dress popped onto his screen. ‘The blue one. Definitely.’ he typed.

‘Kay, thanks :)’

-x-x-x-

Belle was picking the dress off the hanger as her phone beeped.

‘Are you going by yourself? Seems odd.’

She smiled to herself as she replied, ‘I’ve always been a little odd ;) Yes, I’m going by myself. My plus one cancelled :/’ Her father didn’t have the time sadly, and she’d only found out after she’d bought the tickets. So now she was going by herself. She couldn’t think of any of her friends who would be genuinely interested in the play. They’d go to make her happy. Mary Margaret maybe, but she had a night in with David and Belle didn’t want to steal her away.

‘I see.’ Ryan replied.

Belle paused, ‘You could join me? I have an extra ticket after all ;)’

She sent it impulsively and immediately after, she smacked herself. Ryan could be several hours away. The play was in just two hours, there was no way- ‘Depends entirely on where you’re going to see it.’

She felt her heartbeat speed up. She could actually be meeting with her stranger? ‘I’m going to the Storybrooke theater :) are you nearby?’

‘I’m less than an hour away.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short little thing... sorry if i got your hopes up


	3. Blind Date?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which Neal gets involved..

‘I’m assuming you know where the theater’s at? The play begins at 8PM, I’ll meet you outside the theater about 15 minutes before :)?’

He didn’t know why he was agreeing to this, but as long as nothing personal crossed his lips during the play he should be fine, right? ‘Deal. Shall I match my shirt to your dress?’

He was partly joking.

‘If you want :) makes you more recognizable ;)’

Gold smiled, ‘I see. Meet you at 7:45PM then.’

‘Deal :)’

Bzzz-bzzz-bzzz

He frowned and picked up the phone, recognizing the vibrating pattern of an incoming call. He breathed out when the ID read ‘Neal’ and he answered, “Hiya son.”

“Hey papa. How are you?” Neal asked.

“I’m fine, thank you, how about you and Tamara?”

“We’re good. We were actually wondering if you wanted to come over for a visit? We have some pretty big news to tell you,” Neal said.

Gold grimaced, “Actually I already have another… well, she can probably handle it, what-“

“She?”

Gold instantly regretted his choice of words. “Yes Neal, ‘she’.”

“You have a date?”

“Gods no! I have a meeting,” he corrected his son calmly.

“With a lady.”

“Yes.”

“At night.”

“I can see why you’d think-“

“And it’s totally not a date. Right.”

“Bae,” Gold admonished quickly, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I don’t actually know her, we’re just meeting for-“

“You set yourself up for a blind date?” Neal almost shouted and Gold had to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment. “Why wasn’t I told of this?” the younger man then demanded.

“Because it was only arranged a few moments ago. And it’s not a blind date- it’s not a date at all!”

“Whatever you want to call it, papa.” Gold could practically hear his smile on the phone. Neal cleared his throat, “Anyway, our news can wait for tomorrow. We can meet up for lunch instead at my place?”

Gold nodded, “Alright, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure. See you tomorrow then, and have a great night,” Neal said and ended the call before Gold could tell him off. He could read between the lines better than anyone. He sighed and pocketed the phone again. When did he ever raise such a nosy child? He pushed his plate away, saving the wash for when he got home.

But to get home, he'd first have to leave it.

Time to get ready to see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more short little things...


	4. Hey there stranger!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, meetings ahoy!

Belle swallowed one extra time. He’d sent a text, but the mass of people waiting to get inside was making it difficult to distinguish a blue shirt from the blur. She had opened her jacket to let her blue dress peek through, but it was still quite cold so she hugged herself to keep warm. Several seconds went by and she bit her lip, pulling out her phone and called the number. It rang a few times before-

“Hiya?”

Belle was momentarily stunned by the voice. “Hi. I’m by the newsstand.”

“I see. Hang on,” he said and the more he spoke the stronger his accent sounded. Belle knew he was Scottish, but she hadn’t expected it to be quite so prominent. She heard a strange clicking behind her but she ignored it, scanning the crowd in front of her for someone to approach. “Don’t be scared now,” Ryan said warningly.

Belle laughed, “I’ll try.”

“Turn around then,” he said and Belle almost dropped her phone, whirling around on her heels and taking half a step back in surprise. He was about the same height as her, but she was in heels so in reality he would be a few inches taller. He was wearing a dark suit with a blue shirt. His face was all angles, deep brown eyes and a cautious smile on his lips. His hair was long, reaching his shoulders and it was a soft brown with a gray streak. He was definitely older than her, but he couldn’t be more than fifty. And strangely attractive.

She pulled her mind out of the gutter and smiled, ending the call and putting the phone in her purse. As he too put his phone away she put her hand out, “Nice to meet you. I’m Belle.”

“Ryan,” he said and shook her hand. He was wearing leather gloves as well, she noted as they let go of each other. She watched his lips maneuver strangely around the name and Belle felt like he wasn’t used to speak it aloud.

“Ryan is your real name, right?” she asked.

He nodded, “It is. But most people don’t know me by my first name. Consider yourself an exception.”

“I feel so honored,” she smirked.

Ryan gave a wry smile, “May I ask how old you are? Most people don’t invite strange men to the theater.”

She huffed, but took no offence, “I’m 26, and I’m not most people. May I ask your age then?”

He nodded, “I’m 45; quite the elderly man in comparison.” He briefly held up his hand and it was only now she noticed he was clinging to a black cane with a golden handle. He supported himself on it, and it was seemingly the right leg that was troubling him.

She smiled, “You’re not old yet.”

“Tell that to my son,” he shot back quickly, then looked as if he regretted his words.

Belle ignored it, “Your son? How old is he?

“He’s just turned 20,” Ryan replied and he looked awkward saying it.

“They’ve opened the doors,” someone at the front shouted and people started herding themselves inside. She glanced at Ryan briefly and he put his arm out to her. It surprised her, but she smiled and put her hand on his arm, letting him lead her inside. It felt nice. He was a true gentleman, she decided as he took her jacket when they found their seats. And he had a nice smile.

She was falling for this guy, falling fast, and she wasn’t yet sure if it was good or bad.

“You’ve seen the play before?” Belle asked conversationally, keeping her voice down and leaning towards him.

Ryan shrugged, “I read the book first, and then saw the movie when it came out. But I’ve never seen it on the stage before.”

Belle smiled, “Me neither, but I thoroughly enjoyed the book and the movie so I have high expectations.”

“Who’s playing the parts?” he asked, and Belle handed him the folder she’d bought before he’d arrived. He rifled through the pages before nodding to himself and handing it back.

“Do you know any of the actors?” she asked, stuffing the folder into her purse.

Ryan gave a strange smile, “I know Tim Minchin from his other work.”

Belle smiled, “He’s hysterical.”

“Oh thank God, I was afraid you would be among those who find his material offending,” Ryan breathed out with relief, shooting her a slightly thankful smile.

“Christ on a cracker, no. Aussies need to stick together,” Belle quipped and he let out a short laugh. Then the lights dimmed and the mood was set in the theater. He folded his still hands in his lap and Belle laced her fingers together on her knee, leaning forward in excitement. Out of the corner of her eye, it looked like Ryan was smiling at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another shorty... sorry!


	5. The Gooey Stuff

“Papa, tell me everything,” Neal demanded.

Gold raised an eyebrow, “I’m afraid you’re going to have to be more specific”

“Well, was she nice? Was she beautiful? Did she make you laugh? All the gooey stuff,” Neal explained quickly, putting on his best sugary voice for the last part.

“In order; yes, yes, and yes,” Gold replied honestly. Neal could tell if he was lying anyway. A gift (or a curse) he’d somehow developed right around the time when Gold had been in and out of the hospital for his leg pains. “We had a lovely evening,” he continued and Neal cut him off.

“Yeah sure, but did you _like her_ like her?”

Gold sighed, “She’s a very lovely woman, yes.”

Neal groaned, “Come on pops, give me some details.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know… The color of her eyes?”

“Blue,” Gold answered immediately, remembering this very well.

“Mhm, what about her smile?” Neal continued.

“Neal, I’m not looking –“

“I know, I’m just curious,” Neal said innocently.

Gold sighed again, “I’ coming over tomorrow. Can this wait until then?”

Neal pondered for a moment, “Alright, but then I want more details tomorrow.”

“Goodnight son,” Gold said definitively.

“Night papa,” Neal said and ended the call.

Gold breathed out. When did he ever raise such a nosy son?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i seem to specialize in short bits and pieces of plot..

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know...


End file.
